The Shadow City
by couldahadav8
Summary: When Gabriella Montez finds a secret room, she finds herself being thrown into a world she didn't know existed. A world of adventure, deceit, and mystery; where nothing is as it seems. Troyella RxR!
1. The Letter

**A/N- Yea new story ;D**

* * *

To Whom It May Concern:

It is with great sadness and a heavy heart in which I write to you this letter. I have deceived you. Your intentions were always the best and your love unconditional, and I deceived. This brings me to the point of this letter- why. Why did I do it?

I have always been aware about your opinions on the events involving the notorious group known as the _"Irregulars."_ I was never able to explain my reasoning behind my support of this gang until now.

I am one of them.

And it is with great sadness that I inform you that everything you know is a lie. You've been jipped, set-up, swindled, ripped-off, cheated, screwed over, or whatever kids are saying now-a-days. (As you know, I've never really been very good at relating to "regular" teens. Get the joke now?). But don't worry; I'm here to set you straight.

Included in the following pages is my first-hand account of what really happened. How I met Troy Bolton and the rest of the_ Irregulars_. What we really did. This is the truth.

But be forewarned, what you are about to learn goes against everything you've heard before and must be kept a secret. No one else can know the true nature of this project. That also means no one can know about this letter (this means you mom).

You're probably wondering why I'm telling you this then. Right? It's because you deserve to know the truth. You can handle to truth. The other's, as cliché as it sound, can't handle the truth. I couldn't at first. But you have to believe. If I've leaned anything, it's that you have to believe, or all is lost.

I hope that this will help you understand why I had to do what I did. I hope you know it's not your fault, and wherever I am, I'm happy. No matter what. I'm sorry for the pain I've caused you, and the pain this will cause you. But it's the best thing for everyone. I hope you'll understand in time and find a way to forgive me.

No amount of words can make this go away. But I hope that these one's will set things right.

Always Yours,

Gabriella Montez

* * *

**A/N- Wutcha think. Feel free to message me any time about questions, ideas, or suggestions.**


	2. It's Alive!

****

Disclaimer: I do not own HSM or any of its characters.

A/N- I got the idea from a book called _Kiki Strike_ (which I do not own) . Hope you like it!

* * *

It's Alive!

I have to admit, until I started high school, I led what many people would consider an unremarkable life. Let me guess, you think I'm placing too much value on the superficial aspects of life, that my mundane and run of the mill life is much more exciting than I let myself believe. You're wrong.

The first fourteen years of my life could be boiled down to a colorless, flavorless, hopefully odorless, mush. My activities included waking up, going to school, coming home, doing homework, eating, bathing, and going back to bed. I never really thought about it at the time but I must have been extremely bored.

Then it happened.

It was an early Saturday morning and I just happened to glance out my window. My jaw dropped straight to the floor at the sight. The tiny park across the street from my apartment building had been sucked into a giant sinkhole.

The hole was about ten by ten feet and seemed to go on forever. It showed no mercy for the scenery and had swallowed two Japanese pagoda trees, a few shrubs, a birdbath, a bench, and the statue of some guy in a suit. Things like this don't happen everyday, but that isn't why the monstrous hole caught my attention. Oh no! What shocked me was the creature crawling out of the hole.

To say I was terrified would be the understatement of the year. As soon as I saw that thing pull itself out of the pit, I was convinced that it wasn't human. Its entire body was caked in muck and its hair was plastered to its face. When I looked closer, I discovered that its face was extremely pale. The creature reminded me of a zombie who had just risen from the dead.

I had to fight back the impulse to scream, "It's alive, run for your lives!" Alright that's not exactly true, I tried to scream, but nothing came out; which would have been a problem if this had been a real emergency.

I watched as it stood upright and glanced back into the hole, as though hesitant to leave its dark home. Then it looked up at my second story window. It was like it knew I'd be there. When it caught my eye it waved, and tossed something into the hole before running off.

I stood immobilized, watching, waiting. But nothing else happened.

I turned away from the window and rubbed my eyes. There was only one explanation for what was happening. The cold medicine I'd taken last night was making me hallucinate. Little people don't crawl out of sinkholes.

I laughed at myself for being so foolish and breathed a sigh of relief. _What were you thinking? _I asked myself. _Did you actually think something like that could really happen? _

I laid back on my bed and stared at the ceiling, it looked the same. Surprise! I groaned and sat back up, I was suddenly aware of the radio in the background:

__

"...And this popstar is rising up the charts with her new single "Identified."

"You bet Rob. So now we're playing it for you. Here's pop sensation Ella, with her new single "Identified!""

The music started with the sound of flashing cameras and I jumped to my feet.

* * *

_I, know what you're tryin' to do  
Know what you're tryin' to say  
You're giving me the eye  
And pusin' me away  
It's like you're playing games  
Like you're the only one  
We're both one and the same  
So think about it_

_All you're friends are tellin' me  
There's only one ambition on your mind  
You keep on denyin' it  
But all the proof I need is in your eyes_

_You can say what you want  
Yeah, you're cool if you lie  
But you're identified  
You play my heart, 'cuz you start  
Put up a front  
But I see what's inside  
Gotcha identified  
You play my heart, 'cuz you start_

_You, keep askin' how I am  
And watchin' what I do  
You're waitin' for the chance  
Come on and tell the truth  
It's more than obvious  
The way you cover up  
So tell me why the fuss  
Just come on over_

_All you're friends are tellin' me  
There's only one ambition on your mind  
You keep on denyin' it  
But all the proof I need is in your eyes (It's In Your Eyes)_

_You can say what you want  
Yeah, you're cool if you lie  
But you're identified  
You play my heart, 'cuz you start  
To put up a front  
But I see what's inside  
Gotcha identified  
You play my heart, 'cuz you start_

_You can say what you want  
Yeah, you're cool if you lie  
But you're identified  
You play my heart, 'cuz you start  
Put up a front  
But I see what's inside  
That you're identified  
You play my heart, 'cuz you start_

_I got a confession  
I can see through what you're doin'  
Had it right from the beginnin'_

_Gotcha identified  
Come on over to me  
Tell me now before you lose me  
It's no secret you pursue me  
(Gotcha Identified)_

_You can say what you want  
Yeah, you're cool if you lie  
But you're identified  
You play my heart, 'cuz you start  
Put up a front  
But I see what's inside  
Gotcha identified  
You play my heart, 'cuz you startYou can say what you want  
Yeah, you're cool if you lie  
But you're identified  
You play my heart, 'cuz you start  
Put up a front_

_But I see what's inside  
Gotcha identified  
You play my heart, 'cuz you start_

* * *

By end of the song I was done with my morning routine and was singing and dancing around my room.

__

"That was Ella singing her new single "Identified." wasn't that great a great way to start the morning?"

"You bet Rob and now..."

I hit the off button and jumped on my cushioned window sill. Being the clumsy person I slid off but got right back up. This time I sat down carefully and pulled up my knees up to rest my chin on them. This is how I calm down, how I think, how I relax, but something told me I was forgetting something. I tried to ignore it but it kept nagging me.

I couldn't help but look outside my window. What I saw confirmed my worst fear, it hadn't been a hallucination. There really was a sinkhole. That meant...

My thoughts started racing around my head like they were in the Indy 500. I couldn't think properly.

Looking back at this day, that's my only excuse for what happened next. Because what I did next, any other person with half a working brain and a speck of common sense would NEVER do. I grabbed a jacket, put on some Uggs, and ran across the street to get a closer look.

* * *

In most cases, assuming something is a bad thing. Examples:

1) Never assume that the stuff they serve in the school cafeteria is edible, or dead.

2) Don't assume that since something is fun to say, that it'll be fun to eat: huhu- grubs, scrapple- spare parts of pigs (like hotdogs but not served at sporting events), p'tcha- calves' feet (ends up looking like gelatin. And you'll want to give it A LOT of wiggle room), blubber- need I say more?

3) Never assume that your neighbor's twenty-five pound cotton ball with legs, who goes by the name of Mr. Tinkles, is friendly. Just because it doesn't chose to move more than a few inches at any given time, doesn't mean it can't be the embodiment of evil in cat form.

3.5) Also, never assume that since Mr. Tinkles is de-clawed, that he can't hurt you. de-clawing doesn't affect the little the devils' teeth and ability to bite (trust me I've got the scars to prove it).

But if you were to assume that as a sheltered fourteen year girl, with the agility and grace of a one- legged ostrich, would have difficulties trying to scale down the dirt wall of a hole, while holding onto a flashlight, with only to help of a conveniently located rope, you would be correct.

To make a long story short, I fell down the hole and landed on, you guessed it, Mr. Random Statue Guy. I was fine, my flashlight hadn't been so lucky though. Fortunately, it was about eight by this time and the sun gave me enough light to be able to make out shapes. I immediately realized that this wasn't just your ordinary hole, it was a room.

The floor was scattered with tables, chairs, barrels, and crates. Pictures, gilded mirrors, and shelves of dusty bottles graced the walls. By the wall with the shelves, stood a makeshift bar. It reminded me of one of those old, western style saloons you see in the movies.

I was stupidly walking around aimlessly when I tripped over a crate. I groaned, rolled over, and sat-up to examine it. The other crates were by the walls or stacked in piles, but this one was in the middle of the room by itself with a single phrase on its lid: OPEN ME. So I did.

I suppose by now you probably think that I'm a lunatic. Normal people don't crawl into random holes to look around. Normal people don't open crates just because they tell them to. But I've discovered that even though assuming that nothing bad will ever happen to you is foolish and dangerous, it sure beats being curious.

I dug through the entire crate only to discover that there was nothing inside but that stuff they put in to keep the contents from breaking. Disappointed, I got up to continue exploring the strange room. I searched frantically for some clue about the muck monster from this morning but I couldn't find anything.

I sat down on a stool by the bar and told myself that it was time to give up. That's when I saw a charm dangling from the shelf in front of me. I climbed onto the bar and jumped to the floor. Bad move on my part.

The floor behind the bar was extremely slick and my boots offered absolutely no traction what-so-ever. As I fell, my formally dormant reflexes kicked in, and I somehow managed to latch onto and a shelf. To my amazement, the shelf moved to reveal a secret passage. I was about to run through it when I heard voices from above.

"Nah, it's just a myth," said voice number one.

"You gotta be kiddin' me. Course it's true," said the second.

Of course, this is the moment my brain decided to offer up a normal response, I panicked.

"Oh yeah? You ever seen it?"

"Nope."

"Then how you know it's real?"

"My dad use to work with the city. Said they were puttin' in pipes into this skyscraper out by Chinatown when they broke into an open space. They were fifty feet underground!"

"Subway?" the man asked nonchalantly.

"Nope a room, kinda like this one 'cept it was decked out like some fancy Chinese suite."

"What happened? Was someone hidin' out down there?"

"No, that's the thing; there wasn't an entrance into the room. So they just filled it in."

"Fascinating, Bob, really," said the oh-so-enthusiastic man. "Well, ya know, if they're just going to fill it in, I might as well get myself a souvenir don't cha think?" he said as he climbed down.

By this time, I knew I was going to get caught; there was no way around it. I was too terrified and too clumsy to even consider trying to get away. So as the burly worker walker towards the bar, searching for a trinket to show his buddies, I stood up and introduced myself.

I have never, in my entire life, ever seen anything quite as funny as a fully-grown man running away squealing like a little piglet. I laughed so hard that I fell on the floor. I would've died of laughter right then and there if something hadn't caught my eye at that exact moment.

From across the room, I could see a tiny cylinder lying on the floor. I realized that it was probably what that "thing" had thrown back in before running off.

Then it hit me, it had come in and could have left through the secret passage. It hadn't needed to climb out, but it had. It had looked up at my window, it had made sure it had my attention before tossing the item back in. It wanted me to have it, but I had to work for it. Was this some sort of test? Why me? Test for what?

I didn't care. I had to have it.

As the flustered man tried to get out a coherent sentence to his friends above, I ran across the room and grabbed the ornament. Before I knew it I was being hoisted out of the hole and being interrogated.

What's my name? Where do I live? What was I thinking? Didn't I know how dangerous that was?

Many years of watching my loony old grandmother get out of squabbles with authorities had taught me what to do in these kinds of situations. I acted like I couldn't speak English. When they didn't buy it, I resorted to the ultimate weapon that girls have against men: crying.

Worked like a charm.

The unfortunate officer whose uniform I chose to bawl into was so distressed that he offered to not report this and to take me home if I stopped. I let out a few more chokes for effect and then shuffled over to the cruiser. When he turned his back to me, I made a mad dash for my house.

I grinned as I slammed the door behind me. And to think, my theatre teacher said there was no hope of me having a career in acting. Take that Miss Darbus!


	3. Troy, Troy Bolton

**Troy, Troy Bolton**

5,793. That's how many dots are on the ceiling of Ms. Darbus' classroom; aka "the chapel of the arts." I swear, all the time she's spent in unventilated rooms monitoring the painting of sets has done a number on her brain!

I dread coming to this class everyday. But on the upside, there was only twenty minutes left of this torture. Twenty minutes until winter break and two weeks of freedom. Twenty minutes until I could plunge into the plan I'd been carefully constructing since I'd first discovered _The Shadow City_ last month.

I'd tested the limits on countless occasions and found that nothing short of a marching band and fireworks could bring my parents out of their room before noon on the weekends. So after ditching the befuddled officer, I knew there'd be no chance of getting caught.

I'd quickly washed my clothes, and then began my Saturday morning ritual: chocolate cake for breakfast and R-rated movies. After settling my nerves, I began examining the strange piece I'd found.

Since then, I'd decided that it was a container of some sort. But I still hadn't figured out how to open it.

All I could figure out was that the secret to opening it had something to do with the designs on the pieces. It was like one of those twisting combination locks, or a codex. Except instead of finding the right letter or word combo, I had to find the right picture;

which seemed impossible because the pieces didn't spin normally.

Oh no, having pieces spin horizontally and/or vertically is too easy. So they invented a way to give these pieces the ability to be twisted in any imaginable direction. And the greatest part was that none of the pieces seemed to match up.

But I was convinced that whatever was inside would lead me to the creature that had climbed out of the hole. And it would lead me to the secret underground city.

To say I'd become obsessed would be an understatement. After they'd filled in the hole and erased any traces of the hole's existence, I'd gone into full research mode. I'd gone to every known library and checked out every book that looked somewhat promising. The hundreds of books that filled my room only left a thin pathway between my bed, the door, and bathroom.

But in all those books, I couldn't find anything about secret rooms under the streets of Manhattan. I was crushed to say the very least. But I'm very stubborn and refused to quit.

Now my only lead was this stupid puzzle that I wore as a necklace. It was my only hope.

As Darbus continued her speech, kids began to lose interest. As my classmates began discussing plans to meet up over break, I resorted to trying to open the codex, again.

With fifteen minutes left, the noise got so bad that several neighboring teachers had to be brought in to try to quiet us down. After one left, we'd go right back to how we'd been before. Finally, Headmaster Matsui had to be brought in.

The Headmaster is one of those people you secretly make fun, but who you're absolutely terrified of being anywhere near. As soon as he walked through the door and room went silent.

"Children," he began. "I understand that you're excited for break to begin. But can we at least try to stay civilized for a few more minutes? Why don't we try a little exercise? I'll ask a question, and everyone will give his or her answer."

You can always tell when an adult doesn't know what to do because they always ask the same question, "What do you want to do when you grow-up?" And that's exactly what Matsui asked. Everyone gave answers like doctor, lawyer, and scientist. I was about to fall asleep at my desk when I heard a response that caught my, and everyone else's, attention.

"Excuse young man, could you repeat that please?" Mr. Matsui challenged.

"Dangerous," he repeated without hesitation. "I want to be dangerous," he said repeating every word slowly and precisely, as though he was speaking to a toddler.

I glanced back and saw that the response had come from the figure in black who was hunched over in his seat. His skin was extremely pale, like he hadn't seen the sun in years.

"Young man," he started, "in this school we expect our students to be respectful towards administrators, teachers, and their fellow students. Now, apologize to your peers and answer the question."

Silence.

"Young man did you hear me?"

"Absolutely sir, I just can't give a respectful response," the voice said tauntingly. His head was tilted down so that his sandy brown hair covered his eyes, but you could still see his mouth. And at that moment, his lips where curled up in what appeared to be a smile and revealed a set of perfect, shiny, white teeth.

"WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE YOUNG MAN?" he thundered.

The boy looked up and gave a crooked smile. His blue eyes sparkled mischievously and seemed to make even Mr. Matsui nervous. "Troy, Troy Bolton."

The room was silent.

"And now, Mr. Matsui, if you don't mind," he paused and smiled in a way that signaled that he really didn't care if Mr. Matsui cared, "I have somewhere to be."

Mr. Matsui began to protest but Troy held up a hand and Mr. Matsui stopped. Slowly Troy's fingers counted down from five and when he'd finished, the bell rang.

He flashed everyone a smile and glided out of the room.

Mr. Matsui brushed of his jacket and, with a huff, exited the room. Students began to stand and file out the room soon after, whispering about the mysterious Troy Bolton.

No one noticed that I was frozen in place and smiling wildly. I wanted to jump on my desk and start singing and dancing around on it.

Why you ask? Because I'd just found my way into the shadows. And it's name was Troy Bolton.


	4. Tracking

**Tracking**

Back to school. The phrase alone is enough to make any child between the ages of five and eighteen cringe. Usually, the very thought of it would fill me with dread. But not this time. This time my mind was buzzing with excitement. The reason? I was going to see _him_.

There was no doubt in my mind that his cerulean eyes were the ones that I had been searching for since I'd first seen them through my window.

Over the past two weeks, while everyone was making plans to enjoy the holiday season, I'd been drawing up plans of my own. I'd given up on trying to figure the puzzle out and decided that in order to find a way into the Shadow City; I'd have to get the answers from Troy. And that meant I was going to have to do some research on Mr. Bolton.

I blocked out my lessons in every class and worked to perfect my plan. When it came time for Ms. Darbus' class, I sat in anticipation, waiting for Troy to show-up. When the bell rang and Troy was no where in sight, I began to panic. What if he doesn't come? What if he never comes? What if...

"Gabriella Montez! I asked you a question!" Ms. Darbus said.

"Uh..." my mind was blank. I didn't even know what we were talking about. I decided to wing it, "Act IV Scene II?"

Silence

I looked around and saw that everyone was staring at me with shocked looks on their faces. Even Ms. Darbus seemed stunned. I sank into my seat as heat crept into my cheeks. Evidently my lack of interest in the lesson hadn't gone unnoticed. I was mortified.

I was absolutely positive that I had just embarrassed myself into the next century when I heard Darbus clear her throat and say, "Very good Ms. Montez. Now as I was saying..."

Everyone turned back around leaving me gaping. As I heaved a sigh of relief I heard a chuckle from the desk behind me. I turned to ask what was so funny but froze when I saw those eyes.

He leaned back in his seat and stared back at me waiting for my reaction. I opened my mouth but speak but closed it when no sound came out. He just winked and directed his attention back to the front of the room.

I didn't realize I was still staring until I heard a velvety chuckle and a voice say, "You should probably turn around now Montez." My face turned crimson and I hurriedly turned my body to face the front.

I tried my best to listen to Ms Darbus as she droned on about Shakespeare and I jotted down anything that seemed important. But I missed most of what she said because every five seconds I was distracted by a muffled laugh from the desk behind me.

I was exhausted by the time the final bell rang. Then I suddenly remembered my plan. I threw my books into my bag and ran out of the school. I was worried that I'd missed him when I heard the doors open behind me. I darted behind a pillar and watched as he glided down the steps and out the gate. I counted to three and ran after him.

* * *

****

How to Follow Someone without Getting Caught

Being the impatient and clumsy person that I am (see previous chapter for reference) the art of "trailing" has never been my strong suit. But there are a few little lessons that I've learned over the years...

1) Don't get too close. Stay at a distance and avoid looking directly at the person

2) Memorize their walk, it'll make them easier to eye from a distance.

3) Don't call attention to yourself. Wear comfortable clothes and wear layers, every once and a while take off a layer in order to refresh your look (bring a bag to keep clothes in or you'll end up carrying them).

4) Walk ahead of the person to erase any suspicions. Carry a compact or use a conveniently located shop window to watch your target.

5) If you think you've been spotted, turn and start talking to the first person you see. The person will think you're a loon but your target will be oblivious.

6) Always bring cash with you. You never know when you'll have to hail a taxi or jump on a bus.

* * *

After a few minutes I had no idea where I was and I'd lost track of Troy. Like I mentioned before, trailing, not my strong suit. I'd been wandering aimlessly for a while when I came across a strange shop. The front window displayed three maps: one of Manhattan 200 years ago, one of all the old streets, and the last was unreadable. Curiosity got the best of me and I walked inside to get a closer look.

When I asked to see the map. the lady didn't say a word, she didn't even ask which map! Nor did she seem to be bothered by a 14 year old girl handling what had to be a very expensive piece of history. She just smiled and unrolled the map out across a table.

"Do you know what this is?" the little woman asked hopefully.

I shook my head, I had no idea what it was.

She sighed, slightly disappointed but not surprised. "Most people don't even know it exists."

My breath caught in my throat and I struggled to sound normal. "What is it?"

She smiled and said, "The Marble Cemetery."

I tried to hide my disappointment but failed terribly. But the little old shopkeeper didn't seem to notice. She just looked up at me and said, "Let's go have a look at it hmm?!"

"Oh, uh, I don't know I kind of have to get home," I said. I enjoyed graves and dead people as much as the next guy but I more pressing matters to attend to. Like where to find Troy, and how to get home.

"Oh no worries it'll only take a second, " she said grapping my arm. "By the way, my name is Verushka," the peculiar little lady said as she pulled me into another room, up some stairs and to a window. She let go and motioned for me to have a look outside.

I should have taken that opportunity to run away, strangers in creepy shops who take you into back rooms to show you a cemetery just screams homicidal maniac. But I just shuffled over to the window and peered down at the courtyard below.

It looked like a bunch of rocks set on someone's yard. "Where are the graves?" I asked confusedly.

She laughed, "underground of course! You need a key to get in."

A way underground, exactly what I was looking for. I spun around to face her and saw that she was studying me carefully. I knew she was waiting for my response and I'd have to watch what I said. "How do I get a key?" I asked. I guess I was lacking in the tact department as well. But Verushka seemed pleased with my hasty response.

"You can't."

"Why not?" I demanded.

"Only the family members of the dead have keys."

I had a strange feeling that I was being tested again. I glanced out the window again and saw a figure coming out of a vault. I turned around to tell Verushka only to see that she was gone. I directed my attention back to the site below and saw the person attaching something to the vault. Without a second thought, I stepped out onto the perilous fire escape to get a closer look.

As soon as my feet were planted on the rusted metal stairs, I heard the window slam shut behind me and lock with a click. _Crap. _Now the only thing to do was go and see what was there. Not that I wouldn't have done it anyway but know I had an excuse.

I stubbed my toes twice, hit my head on every bar, and fell down the last few steps but I made it over to the vault alive. Ironic huh! On the vault was an envelope addressed to... ME?!

I tore it open and read:

__

Montez,

You're terrible at following people. If you want to know something, just ask!

Troy Bolton


	5. Breakdown

**Breakdown**

Science with Mrs. Caruthers should double as a foreign language. After about twenty minutes, most of the class had given up on the lesson and were sleeping or trying to get rid of their headaches. Not that I can blame them, even I was having trouble keeping up. Looking around the class I saw-

1) Lenny leaning back in his seat rubbing his stomach like he's watching a game on TV. Wish I hadn't seen that.

2) PDA. REALLY wish I hadn't seen that!

3) Half the class sleeping.

4) Crazy Caruthers scribbling words and numbers across the board. She seemed really excited about whatever she was writing, like she'd discovered the formula for time travel or something. Wonder if she'd let me borrow it. Anyway...

I sighed and closed my notebook; I'd worry about science later. What was I going to say to Troy? It'd been a week since the Marble Cemetery incident and I still hadn't gotten up the nerve to ask him. Everyday I'd walk into Darbus' class and see him sitting there staring at me. I'd sit down and turn to see him smiling, waiting for me to ask. In that moment, it didn't matter that I'd rehearsed what I was going to say for the past twelve hours, that I'd stayed up all last night preparing, that I was more prepared for this moment than I'd ever been for anything else in my ENTIRE LIFE. As soon as I turned around and looked at him, I'd turn into a spineless little jelly fish.

Everyday, for the past week, I'd turned around, melted, turned back around, and started to take notes. Everyday I'd heard him groan frustratedly when I'd silently turned back around. And everyday I cursed myself for not being able to just ask a simple question. Everyday, I'd promised myself that I'd ask him tomorrow. Everyday, I'd failed. But today I was going to ask him.

Suddenly I was pulled out of my trance by a high pitched sound_._ My first thought it was as siren signaling that the school was in some sort of emergency.

My imagination went into overdrive and I began to think of every possible bad thing that could happen. After a second or two I had narrowed the possibilities down to being attacked by mole people or getting kidnapped by evil leprechauns. Those were the only logical explanations. I was getting ready to recruit an army when I heard another unpleasant sound.

"Just wait until Daddy hears about this. He kindly gives his hard-earned money to this dirty, undeserving rats' nest of an establishment in order to ensure that I'm comfortable, and then THIS happens. This place would be NOTHING without me. Do you hear me? NOTHING! I MAKE THIS SCHOOL! There should be parades in my honor because without MOI there would be NOTHING!"

Besides a few snickers, the room was completely silent as we tried to make out the nervous whispering from down the hall. Evidently the angry party wasn't pleased with the response and another scream forced everyone within hearing range (probably the entire city) to cover their ears. The class burst into laughter as we heard the click of high heels receding.

"What do you think the "_Princess"_ is upset about now?" the boy in front of me whispered to his friend.

"The posters on the wall probably clashed with her outfit," he whispered back. The boys laughed and went back to talking about their new cars.

The "Princess" was the daughter of an up-and-coming billionaire Vance Evans. No one knows for sure where his money came from, but one thing was for certain. His daughter was a force to be reckoned with. She always got the best of whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted it. The word "NO" was never heard in any sentence directed at her. If you got on her bad side, you'd be lucky to have a cardboard box to live in. NO ONE messed with Sharpay Evans.

In the past two years, she'd completely rewired Manhattan's IN crowd to put herself and her friends on top. Her "friends" changed from day to day, but a few lucky individuals seemed to always stay in her "elite" group. Zeke Baylor was one of those people.

Zeke's father had been a multi-billionaire and world-renowned business mogul. When he died, he left everything, and I do mean EVERYTHING, to Zeke. His claim to fame came with many perks: a successful business, yachts, cars, unlimited vacations, and the honor of being Sharpay's boyfriend.

Then there's the Sharpettes, Sharpay's puppets. These three girls would do anything for Sharpay. If she told them breathing was uncool, they'd die.

Finally there was Ryan Evans, Sharpay's twin brother and personal slave. But for some reason he never complained. His self control makes Gandhi look like a revolutionary.

The bell rang signaling the start of lunch. Kids scurried out of the room and I followed closely behind. As you've probably figured out, I'm kind of a loner. No one wants to be friends with the freaky genius girl. So I was in no hurry to go to lunch where I'd spend yet another day, eating alone. As I walked to my locker, I noticed something strange, something was wrong with one of the lockers. I couldn't help but go and try to get a better look. You'd think I'd have learned my lesson by now but...no such luck. I opened the locker and began analyzing the damage. The lock had definitely been tampered with and the criminal definitely knew what he (or she) was doing. But this was the Upper East Side, who here would know how to do that?

"Looks like the little thief has returned to the scene of the crime," said the sharp voice from behind me. I froze, it was Sharpette #2. "Go get Sharpay," she said to Sharpette #3.

Moments later, she was standing in front of me with the Sharpettes behind her and Ryan on her left. She paced around me like a jungle cat going in for a kill. I was pretty sure that I was about to die and I was having a hard time maintaining a level of dignity. I was about to fall to my knees and start begging Sharpay to spare me when Mr. Matsui came over.

"What's going on over here?" he demanded.

Mr. Matsui is probably the only person who's not afraid of the Evan's. He had no sympathies for the wealthy and refuses to give Sharpay any special treatment. And she loathes him for it.

"I found the little rat who broke into my locker," Sharpay answered coolly. "I want her to be punished."

"Miss Evans," he said just as coolly, "Miss Montez is one of our best students. And I can't think of any reason why she would break into your locker. What proof do you have?"

"PROOF!" she squealed. "She's standing next to my opened locker! What more do you need?"

I began to process the situation and realized that it wasn't looking good for me. "Mr. Matsui?" I squeaked.

He stopped mid-sentence, "Yes, Miss Montez?" he said kindly.

I took in a big gulp of air and said, "I didn't do it. I was just curious about what had happened to the lock."

Mr. Matsui stared at me for a moment before saying, "Well I guess that explains that right Miss Evans? Now off to lunch with all of you. Miss Montez, you're looking rather pale, why don't you come with me."

Sharpay gave a frustrated scream and stomped off with her posse close behind trying to comfort her.

When she was finally gone, I noticed how much I was shaking. Mr. Matsui walked over to me and closed the locker door. He gave me a reassuring smile and in a concerned tone asked, "Are you alright?"

I nodded and then, against my better judgment, threw up on his polished shoes.

I spent the rest of the day in the nurse's office.

When school finally ended, I gathered up my books and got onto the city bus. It would take me most of the way but like most people living in New York; I'd have to walk a few blocks to get home.

I got off the bus and shivered as I stepped into the cold January air. People glanced worriedly at me as I stumbled down the sidewalk. I still hadn't fully recovered from earlier but at least I wasn't a complete and total wreck like earlier.

The thought of what Sharpay would do to me made me extremely nauseous. The last person who'd crossed Sharpay had vanished and was never seen or heard from again. The officials' story is that she moved to Missouri, but I don't believe it. Who willingly moves to a place that sounds like "misery?"

As I trudged up the steps of my apartment building, a velvety voice filled my ears.

"Dang Montez. What happened to you? Get hit by a train?" he said playfully. But when I looked at him, I swear I saw worry flash across his face, but I had to be hallucinating.

"Wwwhat are yyyou dddoing hhhhere?" I half shivered half stuttered.

Troy chuckled, "Isn't it obvious?" I was too overwhelmed to say anything so I just kept staring. He laughed again, "Goodness Montez, you gotta work on the whole staring thing. And to answer your question, I'm here to see you," he said as he flashed me another heart-stoppingly brilliant smile.

"Me?" I squeaked. I really had to stop doing that.

"Yes you. Who else lives here that's worth seeing," he said laughing again.

I wished he'd stop doing that, it was making me very unnerved, and I don't have much nerve to begin with.

"But, why do you want to see me?"

His all-knowing smirk vanished as he thought about my question. I figured he was going to be a while and sat down on a step. "I don't really know," he finally answered. "There's just...something," his answer seemed to bother him but he shook it off so quickly that I wasn't sure that the worry had existed. "And that is why I wanted to give you this." In his hand was an envelope, just like the one from the cemetery. Suddenly, my shyness vanished and the questions bubbled out.

"What were you doing at the cemetery? How did you know I was following you? How'd you get into the Shadow City? How'd you find it? Is there another way in? Are those stories about the city true? What..." I would have kept going but Troy's hand over my mouth prevented me for saying another word.

"I knew it!" he said as though he'd just solved some great mystery. On that note, he stood up, placed the envelope in my hand, and bounded down the steps. "I'll see you soon Montez," he yelled as he grabbed his helmet and sped away on a black Vespa.

When he was out of sight, I ripped open the envelope and read:

__

Saturday 9:00 Café des Amis.

I'd been invited to breakfast.


	6. Bring It On Morpheus

**Bring it on Morpheus**

I arrived at Cafe des Amis at nine o'clock sharp. I'm not sure what I was expecting, but being served a letter on a silver platter wasn't it. I'd ripped open the envelope and read-

__

There's a bus at the corner. It's leaving in 40 seconds, be on it.

Nothing else. I took out several business people and tripped over a little old man's dachshund, but I made it on the bus. As I sprawled out in the seat trying to catch my breath, I realized that I knew didn't really know very much about Troy. But I knew a few things for certain.

1) He was freakishly pale. And the fact that he always wore black only made it more noticeable.

2) His eyes were an unworldly blue. They were just... wow.

3) He was the only chance I had at getting into the Shadow City.

I tried to tell myself that the third reason was the main reason why I was doing this. But I had to admit, number two was a good incentive and number one kept me curious. _-BANG-_ The feeling of my head crashing into the window as the bus sharply turned brought me out of my day-dream. I was still rubbing my bruised head when a paper fell into my lap. It was some sort of picture or diagram. I turned it over and read the urgent script-

__

-Get off here.

After about an hour on exploring, I was convinced that I'd misunderstood. I'd checked every nook and cranny for a clue but... nothing. I plopped down on one of the buildings stoops and sighed. After a few minutes I went to pull myself when I saw something sticking out of a window. I ran to the window and pulled out the card.

-_Tell Charlie I said hi._

What? Who's Charlie? I spun around and saw a bright yellow cab coming down the street. Dang, he was good!

Charlie dropped me off at some weird warehouse place and sped away. I walked towards the sliding door and gave it a good shove. It didn't even budge. I tried again. Nothing. After a few minutes of pulling at the demon door, I finally gave up. I rubbed my temples in frustration and threw my bag at the door. I collapsed to the ground and, consequently, the stupid door chose THAT moment to open. Figures. I sprang up and ran inside before it closed.

From the outside, it looked like this place had been abandoned for years, but the inside said otherwise. The entire place was filled with rows upon rows of crates. Of what I wasn't sure but I doubted it was legal. Why would Troy have me come here? The floor was suddenly pulled out from under my feet and I screamed as I crashed to the floor.

"Did you here that?" someone yelled. Fear pulsed through my veins.

"Yeah it came from over there," another voice yelled back.

I was frantically searching for an escape route when I saw what had caused me to trip. I piece of the floorboard had shifted and moved under another floorboard revealing... a handle? This time I really didn't have a choice. As I lowered myself into the trapdoor, I saw the shadow of a man with a gun coming around the corner. I quickly closed the door, squatted on the floor, and prayed he didn't find me.

I held my breath when the footsteps stopped right above my head. I was about to suffocate when I heard footsteps moving away from my hiding spot. I counted to two thousand, took a deep breath, and thanked God for my good luck. I stood and shook out the pins and needles feeling from my legs. I felt around for a light and brushed a string hanging from the ceiling. When I pulled on the cord, a dim light filled the dusty room. Actually, it was more like a rest stop between two tunnels. The only thing in the chamber was a tiny broken table and the remains of a few chairs, and on the table was a note. This was getting ridiculous. How did he do that?

-_ Montez,_

_You have a knack for finding things you shouldn't find. Hope you didn't hurt yourself to bad when you tripped over that handle! I'm really sorry about all this, but I knew I'd never convince that being with me was dangerous. So I set-up this little...simulation. If you choose to go to continue, this is how you'll spend most of your time: hiding, running, chasing vague clues, and never knowing the real story. It's the only way._

_So here's where you have to make a difficult decision. What to do. The right tunnel will take you home. The left will bring you even farther into a mystery that involves history's greatest minds and today's wealthiest families. _

_A mystery where all the answers you find will go against everything you've ever known and considered to be fact. By going left you'll be putting yourself in the middle of a centuries old war. And you'll be joining the losing team. That's all I can saw for now. Choose carefully Montez. Please! _

I felt numb as I folded the note and put it in my pocket. And the whole thing was giving me _Matrix _flashbacks. Ugh. He had me hooked! But doing this kind of thing all the time?! I was dying to do something exciting, adventurous, and spontaneous; but this seemed dangerous.

But I'd already made my decision."Bring it on Morpheus." I grabbed my bag and ran left.


	7. There's No Place Like Home

**A/N- I'm so sorry I've been neglecting this story! I just got sucked into "Exactly My Brand of Heroin." Plus I had the worst writer's block trying to figure out what to do with this story. But no worries, I figured it out!! And I also slightly tweaked the story, just adding/ revising stuff. You don't have to reread anything though, nothing changed and the plot's the same. So, here's the next chapter. Enjoy! )**

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**There's No Place Like Home**

_Tick, Tock, Tick, Tock, Tick..._

Ugh! Why couldn't time pass faster? I'd been sitting here for the past forty minutes and nothing had changed. Plus the stupid Grandfather Clock was really getting on my nerves. With all its ticking and tocking, like it's mocking me for the choice I'd made.

The left tunnel led me through an underground maze of passages and tunnels. Everything looked exactly the same and pictures began to mush together. After awhile I began to wonder if I was actually going somewhere or just walking in circles. I lost all trace of which direction I was going and how long I'd been walking. I even had trouble distinguishing up from down.

After an immeasurable amount of time, I arrived at a dead-end, but I knew I was at the right spot. This had to be another test. I took in my surroundings.

There were no openings, no doors. Besides the way I'd come from, there was no way to get into the room. There weren't any lights on the walls but the tunnel was lighted somehow. I ran my hand over the walls expecting them to be cold, damp, and rough rock. But that wasn't the case at all. While they were made of rock, the walls were surprisingly warm, dry, and smooth; too smooth. It was like they'd been polished. There wasn't a crack, nook, or rough patch anywhere on them.

I decided that the walls held many secrets, but not the ones I was looking for right now. I turned my attention to the floor. It appeared to be composed of simply dirt and pebbles. I moved some of them away to see if there was anything below the dirt. There wasn't.

I was missing something, I knew it. The answer was right in front of me, I just couldn't see it. Frustration pumped through my veins as I let out a sigh, sat down, and turned my head up with closed eyes. I'd come all this way.

A wave of emotions hit me like a two ton wrecking ball. What if I'd taken a wrong turn? I could die down here. No one would just walk by and rescue me. I was all alone and I was stuck.

Troy had warned me about this, he said that this would be dangerous, but I hadn't listened. And now I was trapped, alone, and going to die.

Something brushed against my arm but I pushed it away. I opened my eyes and glared at the ceiling. What was I missing? Something passed by my arm again but was gone before I could push it away again. A few seconds later it brushed past me going the opposite direction, like it was swinging. When it returned, I was ready for it and grabbed on. It was a rope, no not just a rope, a ladder.

I was so stupid! I'd examined the walls and the floor and forgotten about the ceiling! I looked up to see how far up the ladder went but couldn't see where it ended.

Like I've demonstrated before, I'm not the most coordinated person, so rope ladders hanging from ceilings are a lot more dangerous to me than never-ending mazes with mysterious dead-ends.

But I had to do this. I suddenly felt very courageous and began to climb the ladder. Unfortunately that courage started to falter after the floor vanished from sight. My muscles became paralyzed with fear, my hands started to sweat, and I felt myself slowly beginning to slip. I hugged the ladder and prayed that falling fifty feet down onto a hard dirt floor wouldn't hurt as much as I suspected it would.

A scream ripped from my throat as I felt my hands lose their grip and I began to fall. It wasn't until I was dangling in the air that I realized that someone's iron grasp was around my wrist.

I heard my savior's low, velvety voice mutter an oath as he tried to hold onto my arm and pull me up. I grabbed onto his soft arm and he slowly pulled me up. I sat gasping on the floor trying to fight back the terror that came with the realization that only a moment ago, I'd been close to death.

"You see why I didn't want this for you now?" the voice beside me said between choked breaths. "Jeez Montez!" That voice sent chills up my spine. Amazing how after only a few meetings, I could identify his voice.

"Troy?" I whispered

"Yea?"

I sat- up and turned to face him before saying, "If you ever send me on a wild scavenger hunt when we're suppose to be eating breakfast, I'm having my neighbor sic her giant cat on you!"

"Huh?" he asked totally bewildered.

"You heard me! And I'm talkin' a 25 pound cotton ball with teeth comin atcha! Trust I've got scars. Are you laughing at me?"

A few feet away, he was laying against an opened crate and laughing hysterically. "Yes," he gasped out. "Yes, I am laughing at you Montez. I just saved you from falling to your death and the first thing you say is that you're going to have me savagely massacred by giant fur-ball!"

"Actually, a massacre consists of a group of people being killed. You would be slaughtered, shredded, exterminated, eradicated, slain, executed..."

"Alright I get it," he chuckled as he pulled me up and dragged me into another room. "Here, sit here. I'll be right back. I have to take care of something first, then I'll introduce you."

"'kay," I replied watching him leave. "Wait!" I yelled. "Introduced to whom?" He didn't respond but I swear I could here him laughing. I sat down in the nearest chair and waited.

It was now forty-five minutes later and he still hadn't returned. He said he'd be right back!

"Uuuugggghhhh!"

"You're not very patient are you?" I shot up at the sound of the voice and found myself becoming lost in an ocean of blue. "What? No smart comment?" Amusement flickered through his eyes.

"You... I got nothing," I replied. He laughed and I forgot how to breathe.

"Too bad. You ready?"

"Uh... yeah! Only for the last forty minutes!" he smiled at my obvious impatience and motioned for me to follow him. He walked so gracefully and quickly, it looked like he was glided or floating instead of walking. I tripped over myself trying to catch up with him but when I did I started firing off question.

"Where are we going?"

"Down the hallway. And now we're turning," he said sharply turning the corner. I hit my elbow on the edge trying to keep pace but that didn't stop me.

"Who are we meeting?"

"I'm not meeting anyone, I already know these people. You're the one who's being introduced."

"You know what I mean, and you didn't answer me."

"Yes I did, and you'll get all your questions answered in time. In the meantime, try to refrain from seeming so... so..."

"Naive, annoying, curious, stupid?" I volunteered.

He spun and stared fiercely into my eyes. That was the first time I found myself truly afraid of Troy Bolton. His usually azure eyes were now black and seemed to burn with an intensity I couldn't name. "You're not stupid, your curiosity proves that. Never let someone convince you that you're incapable or too young. And naivety is good. Being naive means that life hasn't chewed you up and spit you out yet. You're still in control. Don't change anything about yourself. You wouldn't be here right now if I didn't think you were perfect the way you were."

I stood paralyzed by his vehement speech. No one had ever shown interest in the real me before. For the second time today, a wave of emotion washed over me and tears welled up in my eyes. Troy noticed my state and gently took my arm and guided me down the hall, continuing his brisk walk.

He led me into a cluttered room which was centered around a table. The table was covered in stacks of messy folders, loose papers, disheveled books, and a variety of food containers from every take-out and pizza place in a three mile radius. And in New York, that's a lot.

The room wasn't much better. You couldn't see past the table because stacks of boxes seemed to fill the entire room. I was so mesmerized by the mess that I was barely aware that the table was missing chairs, and that in those chairs were four people that would save my life.

"Yo T, that's the third girl you've brought home this week! Dude, when did you get game?" a voice yelled.

"Whatever dude. And if I recall, you seemed to really like the one I brought back!" he said playfully shoving someone with a big afro.

"She can hear you," a voice shouted.

"Hey Tay! Didn't see you."

A group of boxes began to shift and a bunch of cracker boxes scattered across the floor. Amid the muddle of boxes, stood a girl in a lab coat and giant goggles. "That's because someone didn't do his job and clean out the boxes like he was suppose to. Isn't that right Chad?!" she said directing her hostility toward the boy with the afro.

"You wrecked my model of The Ritz made of Ritz boxes!" he lamented. "That took me all afternoon!"

"Well maybe you should have been doing something more productive instead of stacking cracker boxes!"

I had the feeling these arguments were already pretty common.

"Not all of us are geniuses and can create complicated potions and antidotes."

"That doesn't mean you can't do something!"

"Fine you want me to do something?" he said grabbing an armful of boxes. "How about this, I'm going to redo my model because _someone _wrecked it!"

"Oh no you don't! The last thing we need is..."

"Are they always like that?" I asked.

"You bet," another voice said. I turned around to see another boy about my age walking into the room pulling a wagon full of scrap material behind him.

"Whatcha workin on Jase?" Troy asked pulling a broken phone out of the wagon.

"Figured I might as well make up a few bugs while I've got some free time. Maybe some trackers too!"

"Way to be proactive man!" he grinned bumping fists with the techie.

"I try," he replied. "You seen Kelsi?"

"Sorry man, just got here. Had to bring someone in," he motioned to me.

"Oh right, sorry. Hey my name's Jason Cross. The one with the big hair is Chad Danforth, the smart one is Taylor McKessie, Verushka's probably in the kitchen, and Kelsi is... KELSI?"

"Here," a tiny voice said. The three of us looked around searching for the source of the voice.

"There!" I said pointing to a tiny hand waving from behind and stack of boxes reading WARDROBE.

"A little help, I'm stuck in the satin again."

As Jason struggled to untangle the tiny girl, Troy leaned close and whispered in my ear,. "Kelsi Neilson is our mistress of disguise, forger, translator, and human lie detector. Her parents design costumes for a theatre, so she's been around actors all her life. As a result, she's picked up how to play a part, and how to tell when someone else is. "

"Jason Cross is our techie. He invents all our gadgets and builds the equipment. He also doubles as Taylor's test dummy. He's a sweet guy and we take full-advantage of his kind nature and sucker him into doing all the dirty work. I use to feel bad about it, but Taylor said if it wasn't him it'd be one of us, so I got over it. His father left when he was ten leaving his mom with six kids. He dropped out of school and works two jobs to help support them. He also sells spy equipment, fixes electronics, and runs an online tech help site in his free time."

"Taylor is our resident brain. She's a brilliant chemist and scientist and can beat out any team in the scholastic decathlon. She gets it from her dad. He's currently working at a cancer research center and teaching a class at Princeton. She lives with her grandmother who just sleeps in front of the television watching wrestling. She also acts as our stunt coordinator, physicist and mathematician, so that none of us get killed in one of our stunts. Especially Chad."

"Chad is the daredevil and criminal master mind and I mean that in a good way. His skills may be common among thieves and other criminals, but he uses them for good. He can hack into any database, and retrieve any bit of information about anyone. He's also a forger and pickpocket. He picked everything up after his dad's gang revolted against him and both his parents were killed. Verushka took him in and he's stayed with us ever since."

"I thought Kelsi was the forger?" I asked. This was a lot to take in, I was surprised I'd remembered that much. So was Troy.

"Kelsi is the forger when it comes to written to typed word. She's more of an identifier of forgeries rather than an actual forger. Chad on the other hand, could make you a file that could convince the English Royal Family that you are Princess Diana come back from the dead."

"I look nothing like Princess Di," I protested.

"That's exactly what I mean. He's that good." As we laughed, a little lady entered the room with a try of drinks and sandwiches. "Verushka!" Troy exclaimed

"Back so soon?" she said wrapping him in a hug. "And with a friend," she exclaimed noticing me.

"So you two know each other?" I said recognizing Verushka as the lady from the shop by the Marble Cemetery.

"Does that really come as a surprise?" she smirked.

"No, I kind of figured as much when I returned to the shop and nothing was there," I confessed sheepishly.

Verushka and Troy shared a smile and I figured I'd probably never truly understand the meaning behind it.

"Alright everyone, let's break for a bit. Verushka brought sandwiches and I'd like to introduce everyone to Gabriella Montez." Troy commanded.

Everyone dropped what they were doing and pulled seven chairs into a circle and sat down to enjoy the snack.

"Well, since we're all finally here, I think it's time to choose a name." Chad announced. Troy smiled at me as the others groaned in unison.

"Is that a bad thing?" I whispered to him.

"Only when Chad suggests it. That means he has an idea."

"Hey love-birds," Chad called, "I'm trying to share my idea here."

Troy winked and I tried to hide my giggle my biting into the sandwich. "Well then, please excuse our disrespectfulness and continue. Chad, you have the floor."

"Thank you," he answered smartly. Troy's exaggerated formality hadn't gone unnoticed. "As I was saying, I think I've come up with a name for our group."

"It better be better than the last three," Jason said.

"Yeah! Chad and Company, Chad and the Chadettes, The Danforths? Really Chad, get a grip!" Taylor complained.

"Oh come on, those were great. Right Troy?"

"I gotta side with Taylor on this one." Troy answered. "Sorry man, I can't be a Chadette."

"Fine," he huffed. "But what about this... The Irregulars."

"Eww..."

"What?"

"It sounds like we're advertising that we're all constipated," Taylor argued

"You should try prune juice and bran, it's nature's broom," Jason volunteered, obviously he'd only caught the end of the conversation.

"I totally just lost my appetite," I said.

"Yeah, didn't we already agree to not talk about digestion problems at meals," Kelsi said softly.

"Kelsi's right. Anyone find anything interesting today?" The group immediately dove into explaining every aspect of their day. There were no secrets, no walls. No one said "You wouldn't understand," no one held back, no one was judged. For the first time, I felt like myself. Like I belonged to something. Like I had a family. The world outside those four walls seemed to disappear and for the next few hours, I was home.


	8. Crap 3X

**A/N- OMG... I'm so sorry. I totally fell off the radar. I just haven't felt like writing. But I'm better now. So get ready to be totally overwhelmed by the amount of updates I'm about to post. **

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**Crap 3X**

I felt like I'd only closed my eyes for a second but when I opened them, I was back in my room. My first thought was that I'd dreamed everything and that the fact that my clock now read 8:55 meant that I was about to be extremely late for my breakfast with Troy.

I sprang out of bed, stubbing my toe on the side table in the process, and scrambled to get ready. I pulled on a random sweater, jeans, and some uggs before rushing towards the door. I yanked it open and proceeded to run out when I heard a phone ring, but which phone.

I dazedly stepped back into my room and listened. It was coming from in here. But that was impossible, I didn't have a phone. I followed the sound of the insistent ringing and found myself standing in front of the window, staring at a jacket. Not my jacket either, Troy's. I fumbled through the pockets and pulled out a sleek looking cell phone.

Should I answer or let it ring? Obviously this was Troy's phone, it was in his jacket. But Troy didn't seem like the type to just forget something. And how had it even gotten in here? My parents would flip if they knew I had a guy's jacket AND his phone. Wait a minute, how had _**I** _gotten here? There's no way the 'rents would have accepted some random guy showing up at our door step with me asleep in their arms. I didn't remember walking home, and I certainly hadn't just teleported here. What happened last night? I sighed, only one way to find out.

"Hello?" I said as I nervously answered the phone.

"Hey Gabster. It's Chad. Troy still there?"

I glanced around, "I don't think so." Why would he be here?

"Oh ok that's cool. Any idea where he is?" he said.

"Um no... Not really," I answered. This conversation was becoming rather strange. Where was Troy?

"Hmm... Ok well then I guess I'll see you later... OH! What'd you think of last night?" he asked excitedly. "Totally great right. You're totally going to fit right in. Troy was totally right. Not that he's ever been wrong... I mean like EVER. The guy is good. Like SCARY good."

I laughed, "I totally know what you mean. Oh and Chad?"

"Yea Gabsters,"

"Should I be worried about how to get Troy's phone back to him?"

Chad paused, "His phone?"

"Yea, the one you called and the one I'm talking on. He left it here," I said. How could he not know that? I mean, he calls Troy and I answer. Maybe that's why he thought Troy was here. I sighed with relief until I realized that I still didn't know where he was. What if something had happened to him? Chad's chuckles distracted me before I could go into pull panic mode.

"I called _**your**_ phone. Troy didn't answer his. So I called you."

"_**My**_ phone?" I said, shock and confusion filling my voice.

"Yep. Troy got it for you a few weeks ago. He never answers his phone, but you seem like the type that would. I always answer my phone. I mean, why would someone call if they don't want to talk to you? So I think it's totally rude when people don't answer their phones. The others answer if they're not working, but Troy NEVER answers his phone. Although he might answer for you. Have you tried calling him?"

I tried to process all the information but my brain sort of crashed after, _"Troy bought it for you a few weeks ago." _He bought me a phone? I couldn't figure out how that made me feel. He bought me a phone? The idea unnerved me for some reason. Why did he buy me phone?

I didn't realize I'd been thinking aloud until I heard, "Uh, Gabi? It's just a phone. Please don't get all emotional on me. -sniffle- I don't think I could take it -choked sob-"

The line went silent for a minute and I got a hold of myself. Chad was right. It was just a phone, a gift. An unnecessary one as far as I could tell but just a gift. I'd be sure to ask him about it later. I waited for Chad to speak but he stayed silent. Had he hung up? "Chad, you still there?" I whispered.

My question was met with a sob and a: "I just need a minute please." I laughed at his melodramatics.

"Alright Chad. I get it, no tears. I overreacted, I'm good now." I waited but he still didn't answer. "Chaaaad!" I whined.

This time he laughed and said, "Just checking. Can't have you freaking out, Troy would murder me."

That was the third time he'd said something like that, it was starting to bug me. "Why do you keep acting like we're a couple? Troy doesn't like me. We just met."

"Oh well yeah I guess so. Um... it's just... well yeah. I mean... ok well I'll be over at 2," he said quickly and hung up.

That was weird, but I decided not to dwell on it. After all, Chad is a weird guy. I wondered back over to the window and sat with the jacket on my lap. It looked more like a piece of a CIA agent's equipment rather than a mysterious teenage boy's jacket. I shivered when I thought about how close I might be to the truth, but I wasn't ready to accept that Troy was dangerous. I couldn't deny that he wasn't your average teenager, in fact I had an ongoing list supporting that with a variety of examples, but dangerous- he couldn't be. He'd saved me too many times for me to feel anything but safe with him.

I smiled at the memories and thoughtlessly wrapped myself in his jacket as a cold breeze whipped through the window. I was suddenly overcome by the smell of... him... It was strange. It didn't smell like cologne or soap. It just smelled like... Troy. That's the only way I can explain it. I buried my face farther into his coat and breathed in the scent. It was addicting, so alluring.

Then I realized what I was doing and started laughing at myself. I was really turning into a crazy person. I mean, who smells a person's clothes unless they're... Crap!! I...he... Crap!!

My mind went into overdrive and my heart beat become uneven. I couldn't be in love with... NO!! I wrapped my arms around myself and curled into a ball. I had to get my thoughts together. I had to calm down and think rationally.

What I feel now:

1. Confusion- More has happened in the past few months than in my entire life.

2. Pitiful- see reason one

3. Nervous- What does he think?

4. Nauseous- see reason in reason 3

5. Pain- something is poking my side

Due to reason five, I had to stop the thinking process and check to see what was poking me. I pulled open the jacket and rubbed my side. There wasn't anything in my shirt so I checked the jacket. And what-do-you-know, another letter. And it was more mysterious than before-

__

Meeting at 2:00

What kind of explanation is that? What about the where, the why, the who? Then it hit me. Hadn't Chad said something about that?

__

"I'll be over at 2."

Those had been his words right before he'd hung up. This could only mean one thing. **_CRAP!!_**


	9. You Never Know

**You Never Know**

Before the Great Depression, my apartment building was the home of a rich and daring business man. His family built it after gaining a fortune in a lucrative business venture, funny how they lost it the same way. The truth behind the stories, ranging from deals with the mafia to government conspiracies and hostel take-overs, has yet to be uncovered; but, one thing is for certain: it hasn't made a good cleaning since its conversion.

My parents watched amusedly as I scurried around the house with a tool belt on cleaning supplies, a sponge in one hand, and a squirt bottle of everywhere disinfectant/ mold killer/ grim taker-outer in the other. The "eww killer" as I'd come to know it as was invented by my uncle, "the inventor." He was constantly sending us his newest creations, and until now I'd never found any use for them. "Thank God for Crazy Uncle Jack," I muttered as the stuff ate through the stain on the rug. A stain that was probably older than I was I might add.

"So, hun, why are you going all neat-freak on us again?" my father taunted. I glared up at him and huffed as mother tried to choke back her laughter with coffee.

"Because," I huffed grabbing the mug out of his hand and throwing it into the sink, "I have friends coming over for a... err... project thing. You know, for school, that purgatory you insist I attend 7 hours a day, 5 days a week, 36 weeks a year."

"Hey, do you mind? I was still drinking that," he complained.

"I don't care!" I cried. "I have until 2 to turn this place into something slightly resembling a place capable of living. Actually, it should be making this into a place capable of receiving guests, but like I said, I only have until 2 and no access to heavy equipment," I ranted as I scrubbed at a stubborn stain on a plate.

"What do you mean heavy equipment? That tool belt isn't enough?" Dad chuckled. Mom coughed spit most of her coffee back into her cup before handing it to me and joining in the laughter with Dad.

"Don't mock the tool belt," I warned them. "The tool belt is the only thing keeping the Health Department from condemning this place, sending in the Contamination Crew, and burning this lot to the ground." With that I marched out of the room, off to tackle the pit known as... _the bathroom_. As I scrubbed viciously at a patch of mold on the wall that assumed the smell, texture, and size of a creature in the possum family, I heard my parents' "witty" remarks.

"You know, it's funny Drew, I never thought we'd be able to afford a maid."

"You'd be surprised, child labor is surprisingly cheap these days," he chuckled.

I gave up on the blob, hid it with a conveniently located trash can, and rushed in the "living room" with vacuum in tow. "You two are hiLARious," I said sarcastically, flinging the hot pink rubber gloves at them.

They muttered something unintelligible back but I blocked them out by turning on the vacuum and attempted to rid the carpet of fifty years of dust. The end result wasn't too awful; you could make out some of the colors under the layer of dust now. That was a plus!

I looked around the "clean" apartment and sighed. It wasn't pristine, it definitely looked lived-in, but it was better. Much better. I fell back onto the sofa and decided to rest in until they arrived. Which would be in, I glanced at the clock, 5 minutes. I did a double take, 5 minutes?! I screamed and ran into my room. How could I have been cleaning for almost five hours? It was impossible, and yet totally possible. I grabbed the first outfit I saw and ran into the bathroom to shower. I emerged to the sound of an opening door and voices.

"Well it's very nice to... uh... meet you. I'll just go tell Gabriella that you are..."

"No prob Mom, I'm done. Sorry guys, lost track off time," I rambled as I finished drying my hair and threw the towel into the hamper. I turned to see everyone staring at me. "So... what's up," I asked awkwardly.

"Kelsi?" Taylor said.

"Totally," she replied.

"Agreed,' Chad piped in.

"Jason?" Taylor asked.

I looked at Jason. He was totally gaping at me. I looked at my clothes. I was wearing a tan, three quarter length shirt with horse prints on it along with a pair of jeans. Did he have a problem with horses?  
"Is something wrong?" I asked nervously.

"Absolutely not," Taylor grinned. "Can we sit?"

My head shot up and I went into hostess mode. "Of course I'm sorry. Sit, sit. Anyone want anything to eat, drink, or throw at Chad?"

"I'll take something to throw at Chad," Jason said finally snapping out of his reverie.

"Make that two," Taylor joked and she and Kelsi plopped down onto the sofa.

"Hey, just because your jealous of the 'fro' doesn't mean you have to injure it. Isn't that right Lola?" he cooed.

"No..." the group groaned.

"Not again." -Kelsi

"Lola, Chad? Really?" -Taylor

"I had a fish named Lola once," Jason said excitedly.

"Me too!" I exclaimed.

"Yea!" he cheered pumping his arms in the air.

For the next few minutes, the room was silent except for Taylor and Chad's arguing and my parents informing us of their departure.

I let Taylor and Chad argue for a while, hoping that eventually they'd tire of it, and I'd be able to ask the question that was eating away at me. But they kept going and I was forced to interrupt to ask: "Where's Troy?"

Everyone froze and looked around, as though they hadn't even noticed his absence. But then again, maybe they hadn't noticed. Maybe I was just too aware of his presence, or lack there of. Maybe I was the only one who was anxious to see him.

"Everyone miss me?" a velvety smooth voice asked from behind.

An electric current shot through my veins and I whirled around in my seat to face the window. There he was, perfect as ever, with his jacket on. When had he gotten that back? And how had he gotten in?

I didn't ask and he didn't bother to explain that, there were more important things on his mind. For example, why we were here.

"Each of you are experts in your own area, as you've already observed. You're here today because no one appreciates, or truly _can_ appreciate, you talents. Those days are over." He paused and chills ran down my spine. "Today I am offering you the chance to put those skills to good use. To do something worth while with your life. I'm offering you the experience and adventure of a lifetime."

* * *

**How to Prepare for an Adventure**

Those Boy Scouts had the right idea when they told their members to "Be Prepared." Life loves to throw curve balls and take cheap shots at you when your down. You can't fight it, so you just have to find a way to deal. To counter dangers of any magnitude keep these things handy:

1. A Compass- One that works. If it's on a cute keychain and insists that every direction is North, it won't offer you much help. Remember, even the most familiar environments can get confusing in certain conditions. In these cases getting lost isn't just hazardous, it's a waste of time and energy.

2. Flashlight- Even if you not afraid of the dark, they come in handy (see chapter 2 for reference)

3. Batteries- Very useful if you want your technology to work.

4. Swiss Army Knife- You can get them almost anywhere and they are discreet and can get you out of countless scrapes. Doubles as a screwdriver, outfit alterer, letter opener, nail file, mirror, and door stop. Don't attempt to board plane with one unless you're looking to make friends with National Security Personnel.

5. Lock Pick- These little bit will open countless doors for you (sorry, couldn't resist). Bobbie pins and exprired credit cards work wonders as these.

6. Duct Tape- Ah duct tape. The greatest invention on earth. Use it to immobilize criminals, shut-up your an overly chatty co-worker, fix essential equipment, or make a cute skirt.

7. Gum- Fresh breath should be everyone's priority but this sticky substance can do much more. Use it to jam a car's ignition, stick notes or devices in secret places, close an envelope, or to influence someone to get a hair cut by strategically placing in hair.

8. First-Aid kit- Self explanatory I hope.

* * *

"Will it be dangerous," Chad asked nervously.

"Strange question coming from the person who I met after he jumped off a rickety fire escape after getting chased by cops for threatening to blow up the station. All because he thought it'd be 'fun.'" he challenged

Chad thought for a moment before adding, "Good point, I'm in."

"Me too. I mean what else do I have to do?" Jason chimed in.

"That's the spirit," Chad said punching him in the arm.

Troy smirked as the two wrestled and looked over at Taylor and Kelsi. "Ladies?"

Kelsi looked back unsurely and glanced at Taylor. Evidently they wouldn't be so quick to agree.

"What are we talking about exactly? How illegal? Bank robbery? Embezzlement? Fraud? Blackmail? What are the limits? What's the goal? I need details," Taylor demanded. "You're not planning on killing anyone are you? I don't do murder plots. And if it attracts the FBI I'm out. They're still watching me after that explosion last year. I can't afford to attract anymore attention to myself."

"Taylor," he said soothingly. The tension in the room immediately eased and I let out the breath I hadn't even known I'd been holding. "I don't plan on killing anyone. And as for the FBI, they'll never spy on you again if everything goes according to plan. Actually, they'll be on our side. But that requires your complete and total trust and loyalty. Can you do that?"

"You bet. Absolutely." Jason and Chad nodded excitedly.

Troy kept his gaze on Taylor and Kelsi. After a moment Kelsi nodded at Taylor who said, "Let's hear it."

Troy flashed a thousand watt smile at the four of them and began his story. "Before he died, my Grandfather used to tell me stories about a secret place under the streets of Manhattan. A place full of secrets and mysteries waiting to be solved. It was built to hide criminals and their goods away from the police and competitors. It was nicknamed the Shadow City."

"I believe it's about seventy or eighty feet underground, deeper than any subway. They're connected to the surface through secret passages which lead into room which lead to tunnels farther underground. From what I can tell, the rooms and halls are a series of mazes connecting businesses throughout New York: banks, residences, shops, etc. If thieves found out, they'd be able to rob every person in Manhattan blind."

"Why don't we just tell the police?" Kelsi squeaked.

"Like they're going to believe us," I scoffed. Everyone turned to me and I found myself arguing the case. "Listen," I started, "I've always been the mousy, freaky-genius girl. It sucks. No one listens to you or cares what you think. Adults think that since we're just kids we're totally oblivious and naive. Maybe they're right but right now we have a chance to make a difference. We can control the Shadow City. Us! Six teenagers who have been underestimated out entire lives. And the six of us can take down the criminals that agents only dream of getting close to. And thanks to the tunnels, we'll do it without even putting ourselves in harm's way."

I was fully charged now. The thought of controlling the Shadow City sent adrenaline pumping through my veins. "Think about you guys, I mean really think about it. We have to do this. No one else is going to take the chance, and those that do aren't the kind we want to have this kind of information. Do we really want to let the city fall into the hands of criminals?"

The room was dead silent as I finished. When no one answered I started to sweat. Why weren't they saying anything? Had I driven them away? I was about to take it all back when I heard-

"I'm in."

"Me, too."

"Definitely."

"You, betcha."

Relieved, I looked up and smiled at Troy. "So, what's the plan boss?"

He grinned and said the six words that started this debacle, "We're going to steal a map."


	10. 00Chad

**00Chad**

**How to Be a Master of Disguise**

You don't need closets full of clothes, masks, or wigs to be a "master of disguise." While they can be helpful, they can also be expensive and require extensive upkeep along with the use of extensive charts and organization tactics. So unless you're a person with bottomless pockets, too much time on their hands, an obsessive neat-freak who likes mapping everything out, or totally paranoid, just stick to these few tips and you'll be good to go.

1. Be a Chameleon- Have you ever noticed that people wear the most attention attracting clothing when they are trying to **not **get noticed. Come one people. The whole point is to blend in; the very last thing you want to do is turn heads or be remembered. So unless you're in Vegas, bright red lipstick, clothes with feathers and sequins, and huge high heels just won't do. So take notes from nature's master of disguise, the chameleon, and dress for your surroundings.

2. Mask Memorable Features- The point of a mask is to cover something up. If you have startling bright eyes, a huge nose, rosy red cheeks, or a to-die-for complexion, cover them up with a pair of oversized sunglasses or blot on some foundation. Also, if you always wear your hair a certain way, don't wear it that way while you're spying. Especially if it is an abnormal color or style.

3. Change Your Body Shape- While faces are what most people remember the most, you can also be identified by your shape. That doesn't mean you should go on some crazy crash or binging diet for the sake of the mission. Putting yourself at unnecessary risks is stupid and dangerous. Instead, wear loose fitting clothes or layers to change your figure.

4. Don't Wear Your Own Clothes- You might not think so, but people will start to recognize that cute little sweater you always wear. So head over to the Goodwill and buy something cheap. Pick out something that you wouldn't usually wear and avoid things brightly colored.

5. Take Advantage of Uniforms- What's better than something designed specifically to suck the originality and uniqueness of all who wear them. After all, do you say, "Hey, the guy with red hair, a huge nose, but who has a great personality is at the door," or "Hey it's the pizza delivery guy."?

* * *

I shakily fidgeted with my cleaners' outfit as I waited. I turned back to the cart and tried to look occupied in my "work" as two official looking men walked by. One was a middle aged and wearing a suit that screamed, "I take my job way too seriously." He was undoubtedly one of the guys who dealt with running this place. By the looks of his facial expression, he was extremely agitated by this whole situation. The company certainly didn't trust outsiders and the man next to him was one. Not only that, this outsider, thanks to their technical difficulties, now had clearance to a level that had taken the middle aged man years of networking to achieve. To say he was resentful would be an understatement.

The other man, the outsider, appeared to about forty years old. He was sturdy and strong but seemed aged too. He was dressed in official looking garb and was carrying a briefcase. He seemed to be trying to refrain from throwing the other man against a wall and just clenched the briefcase tighter.

They stopped in front a door a few yards away and as the middle aged one flipped through his security cards, the other one scratched his head. That was my cue.

I carefully wheeled the cart towards them and as I passed, I tipped a bottle of cleaner and spilled most of the cleaner on the overzealous man's suit. Cruel you say, not really. Trust me, the suit was totally hideous, I did his a favor by ruining it. Obviously he didn't think so and muttered unintelligible things at me as he rushed towards the bathroom.

Too bad the bathroom was closed off for "sanitation reasons." Now he'd have to go all the way to the other side of the building on the lower level. In order to do that, he'd have to use his keys, which were no longer in his back pocket. Unfortunately he wouldn't realize that until he got all the way down there. Then he'd have to come back up to get them or use someone else's keys. In any case, we had plenty of time to get what we'd come for, but that didn't mean we were taking our time.

Before he was even out of view, we were inside and locking the door behind us.

I pulled my headset on and checked the frequency. "Hey, we're in, can you hear us?" I whispered rapidly as I ran to catch one of the bags being thrown in the window.

"Loud and clear Gabs," Jason responded.

"Troy in yet?"

"Just got in Jase," he responded as the man, hopefully by now you've figured out that it's actually Chad, pulled him in. "Nice job Kels, Chad looks legit," Troy praised.

"Thanks," Kelsi replied shyly over the radio.

"Alright, let's go everyone. We don't have all night. Jase said the glitch will flicker out in about thirty minutes," Taylor chided.

We quickly set-out to untangle the cluttered cords and plugged them into the right ports. Chad and Jason explained that the process was usually rather simple, but since we weren't familiar with the equipment or security, we had to prepare for the worst, and the worst meant lots of wires being plugged in. Ten minutes later Chad was hacking into the database when an alert sounded through our headsets.

"What's going on Taylor," Troy demanded.

"Oh crap, someone's coming," she said worriedly.

"Where is he?" he ordered walking towards the doors.

"Coming down the hallway, to your right."

"Any chance he'll come in?"

I froze in panic at the thought. If he came in, he'd see us, he'd tell someone, we'd go to jail, and I'd never get into Harvard. Not that I particularly wanted to go to Harvard but I want to keep my options open. In any case, I knew we were going to get caught. I knew it. I could feel it and every neuron in my brain was screaming, "You idiot, you should have stayed home and done your math homework." (I'm a geek, I can't help it.)

"What do you we do, captain?" Chad asked as he continued to type furiously on the keyboard.

"Keep going," he said.

"But what about the guy..."

"Don't worry about him. I'll take care of it. Jason, talk them through the set-up, I'll be right back," he said walking out the door and down the hall.

My brain was still in panic mode and my hands were shaking as I tried to help Chad with the wires. Soon he was typing furiously on his keyboard and I just sat back and squirmed. I kept thinking that I heard the door being opened and every five seconds I turned to look. You would think that I would figure out that it was all in my head and stop being paranoid, but that was not the case at all.

I sighed and knew it was my own fault. Stupid conscience. Funny how I'd never actually considered what the whole breaking and entering thing would do to my always yapping conscience. You would think a guilty conscience which causes you to sleepwalk 20 blocks through Manhattan in your underwear- all because you took a cookie from the cookie jar- would be something to consider as you're planning to do something illegal. But nope. I'd been so intoxicated by the rush of doing something completely out of character, with Troy, to even think about anything- except Troy.

Ahh Troy. With his shaggy, chestnut brown hair, jaw-droppingly, gorgeous, blue eyes, his mysteriousness, and his dangerous yet soft-ness. I had to mentally remind myself not to start drooling. After all, we were still on a mission. THE MISSION!

I snapped out of my daydream and glanced at Chad. He seemed worried. "Something's wrong."

"Nothing's wrong," he argued feebly. He looked over to see if I believed him, I didn't and I turned away with a gulp.

"How we doing with time guys?" I asked impatiently. Troy'd been gone for a while and Chad was having difficulties with the files, we had to be getting low on time. I waited for their response but there was nothing. "Guys? Taylor, Kelsi, Jason?" Still nothing.

"How much time Gabs?" Chad rushed as he started typing again.

"I don't know. No one's answering."

He sucked in a breath and typed faster. "I'm extracting files now. Once I start I can't stop til they're done," he warned.

I glanced around the room, no clocks. The others were gone, and we were running out of time. Everything was falling apart, but we had a job to do. "Do it," I ordered and ran to pack things up. "Hurry."

"I don't think I can make it go much faster..."

"Try!"

As the copying began, several things happened at once.

First, the alarms went off. Not quite like in the movies when the red lights start flashing and sirens blare. Instead, the computers started switching over to this weird flashing thing where they just read off codes. Chad freaked and said it was security. They knew we were taking files and were tracking us. I'd researched the company's security measures enough to know what that meant. We had to get out, within the next few seconds or we were dead.

That was when the dogs started barking. Did I forget to mention that they have dogs? Well they do. Big dogs. Mutts who are bred to be the meanest, fastest, best guard/ hunting/ search dogs ever. Strictly government agency dogs. Oh... and by the sounds of it. They were close.

"We're going to have to go out the window. Can you handle it?" Chad asked throwing the already packed bags onto the fire escape. It hadn't taken long for everyone to discover how clumsy I am. Instead of joking about my inability to walk across flat surfaces without stumbling, everyone had become extremely watchful of me. If I start to slip the closet person would grab my arm and steady me. Two months later, the protectiveness only increased. They were subtle about the hawk-watching and would only eye me when they think I'm not looking or voice concerns when they think I'm out of earshot.

But I'm not stupid. And the undertone of their concerns was starting to worry me. It always seemed like I was missing something; something important. I knew there was a reason they were so careful with me. I knew there was a reason I was always under their watchful eyes. The reason was right in front of me, I knew it.

That was what I was thinking when the third thing happened. Someone was in the halls. I gazed helplessly at Chad.

"Out the window now. Get to the safe spot. I'll meet you there," he shouted as he barricaded the door. The 'safe spot' was this little restaurant a few blocks away. We'd mapped out five different routes that any of us could reach if there was an emergency and we got separated.

"But Chad," I begged. Tears threatened to fall as he pushed me out the window. I couldn't imagine leaving him by himself; he was like a big brother to me now, along with Jason. I didn't want to lose another member of my new family.

He saw the tears and said, "No worries Gabs. I'll meet you there. Actually I'll probably beat you there," he challenged. Something rammed against the door, the dogs were louder now. "Get out of here, now."

The urgency in his voice made me choke back my arguments and I scrambled down the steps. I am proud to say that even with a heavy bag in each hand and even though it was the dead of a cold, rainy night, I didn't fall once as I sprinted down the alleys towards the spot.

I sighed in relief as the sound of dogs, sirens, and shouting faded behind me. Before long, I was stumbling into the little cafe, sopping wet and gasping for air. The lady at the register and several late night patrons stared wearily at me. But one person seemed very happy to see me.

"Gabriella!" He was dressed, head to toe, in black and was seated at one of the back tables.

I walked towards and slowed as I saw who it was. "Ryan?"


	11. Talk to Me, or Not

**Talk to Me, or Not**

I stared at the boy in front of me, actually it was more of this weird half gape half gawk thing. I'm sure a fly could have totally flown into my mouth and down my throat and I wouldn't have noticed at that point. There was Ryan Evans, millionaire and most eligible teen bachelor, sitting right in front of me, in a ratty restaurant on the West Side!

My utter shock left me scrambling for words. Actually, thinking of words wasn't the problem. Putting them into an order which would constitute an even semi-intelligible sentence was the problem. And, unfortunately, my psycho-analytical mode kicked at that exact moment and I blurted out, "This is the West Side. What are you doing here?" Ok, maybe it wasn't so scientific, but I was in shock people. Gimme a break!

When I realized what I'd just said I went to apologize but he stopped me. "Don't worry about it," he laughed. "I understand what you mean. I probably don't look like to type to patronize small, inexpensive restaurants who don't know which side a salad fork goes on.

"I don't even think they'd know what a salad fork is," I point out.

He laughed again and motioned for me to sit in the opposite booth. I plopped down in the seat and he motioned for the waitress to get me a drink.

"Oh no, I don't want anything," I argued

"Nonsense, you're sopping wet and shivering, and out at two am. That means you need coffee and I won't take no for an answer." The waitress set a mug in front of me and left with something I think was suppose to resemble a smile. "Drink up," Ryan urged and I obediently took a sip.

"It's good," I admitted and took another drink before setting it down. "So what brings you to this side of town in the middle of the night?" I asked calmly.

"Narcissism," he stated nonchalantly.

"A perfectly rational cause for having your driver take you to the other side of town and drop you off at a dirty fifties' style restaurant in the middle of the night." I said taking another sip from the cup.

"Actually I took the subway, and then walked the remainder," he said, closely watching my reaction.

I tried not to let my surprise show, but I don't think I did a very good job considering that in most places, spitting out your coffee (or any liquid for that matter) is a sure sign of surprise. So is screaming "YOU TOOK THE SUBWAY?!?" and clapping loudly. Like I've said before, subtlety… not my strong suit. Fortunately, Ryan didn't seem to mind.

"Unlike most of the kids at our school, I've been aware for quite some time that mole people do not live in the subways. And since I'm not afraid of disease or the middle classed, nor am I completely shallow, I don't mind taking the subways. Actually, it's my preferred method of travel."

"Wow! Who would have thought that Ryan Evans, son of THE Vince Evans, actually LIKES to use public transportation?"

He grinned. "Who would have thought that THE Gabriella Montez does NOT actually know everything?" he said mockingly.

"What can I say? The girl's good. Did you hear that she might be actually be of an advanced alien species?" I said matter-of-factly.

"Oh really," Ryan said trying to hold back a grin. "I hadn't heard. I did hear that she may actually be a robot or a clone of Einstein."

"Hmm…. Interesting," I smiled. As I tried to come up with a clever response, my cell buzzed. "Hold on one sec," I said pulling out my phone.

_-Everything okay? Need us to bail u out?_

_- Taylor_

I sighed in relief.

_-Tay, thank god. I'm ok. Everyone else alrite? Wut happpend to Chad? Everything ok? Wuts going on? Where is everyone? I'm at the cafe. Where u at?_

I typed back hurriedly.

_-Troy's taking care of it. It's ok. Don't worry. Everyone went home. We're in the clear._

I rolled my eyes angrily._ "Why didn't anyone ever keep me in the loop? Why am I always the last to know?"_

-_Alright, thanx Tay. C u soon?_

-_Ask Troy. Bye._

Confusion covered my face. "Troy?" I asked.

"Yes?" a voice asked.

I turned suddenly and almost knocked over my coffee in the process. "Troy!" I squealed and wrapped him in a tight squeeze. "Oh my goodness, I was so worried. You were there and then you weren't and I thought something happpened. I tried to call someone, anyone, but the lines were like dead. And then I came here and no one was here. I didn't know what happened. I was so scared!" I exhaled deeply and then inhaled trying to catch my breath. Rambling takes a lot out of you.

"You worry too much Montez. I can take care of myself," he smiled returning the hug. "But you can do something for me."

"Anything!" I said quickly.

"Stop choking me!" he laughed raspily.

I suddenly became extremely aware of how close we were and how tightly my arms were wrapped around his neck. "Oh! I'm sorry... I'll just..." I said back-pedaling as I unattached myself.

He pulled me close again and smiled. "I just said I didn't want to be choked, not that I wanted you to go away."

I blushed from the intensity of his voice and looked away shyly. It was then that I felt another pair eyes on me, Ryan's. "Oh Ry... this is Troy. Troy, this is Ryan. He's the kind soul who was bravely putting up with me while I was waiting for SOMEBODY to call me," I said accusingly.

"Sorry, signals were down. Got here as soon as I could," he said sharply. "I suppose I owe you my thanks Evans," he said flatly.

"Yeah, no problem. Gabriella's a nice girl. Happy to keep her company," he said to Troy and quickly laid down a fifty. "Nice talking to you Gabs," he grinned. "Hopefully we can do this again." He glanced at Troy and left with a nod.

"Bye Ry," I called after him cheerily and turned back to Troy. "So what are we... Are you ok?" I asked worriedly. "You look... angry?" Actually angry wasn't a strong enough word. His usually bright blue eyes were black as night. I knew his well enough by now to know that his eyes changed with his mood. Bright=Happy, Dark=Angry, Light=Tired/ Calm, Dull=Unattached/ Disappointed, etc. But this look was different... somehow. But I couldn't place the look on his face.

"Troy?"

"It's nothing. Let's go," he said roughly as he strided out the cafe and down and street.

"Hey! Slow down," I shouted as I ran after him. "Troy! Troy!" I finally caught him and pulled on his arm. "Hey! Talk to me. Did I do something?"

"No, _**you**_ didn't do anything," he said and pulled his arm away before walking again.

I ran after him and struggled to keep up. "Can you slow down. Can we talk?" He didn't respond, but he did slow down. Thank goodness. "Please Troy!" I begged. He signalled a taxi and it screeched to a halt in front of us. He opened the door and ushered me in as he told the cabbie my address. "Troy," I pleaded.

"It's nothing," he said gruffily. We didn't speak the rest of the ride. It was completely silent until the cab stopped outside my house.

I stepped out of the cab with Troy behind me. He paid the man as I unlocked my front door. When I turned back around he was coming up the steps. "Do you want to come in through the front door for once or do you prefer windows?" I said trying to lighten the mood. I guess it didn't really work because his face stayed stony. "Troy?" Then it hit me. "You're not coming in, are you?"

He shook his head. "I just wanted to make sure you got home okay. And now you're home so... I'm going to go."

"But Taylor said you were going to explain..." I said in a voice which, I regret to admit, probably sounded whiny.

"We're having a meeting sometime this week to figure out the next step. I let you know the details as it gets closer."

"That's it?" I shouted at him as he walked away.

"That's it," he shouted over his shoulder. Then he was gone.


End file.
